The Color of Coffee
by GirlWithAPearl6
Summary: A little incident leads to a big discovery. And Kirk, once again, does something weird. What's not to love? Review if you read, please!
1. The Fall

**The Color Of Coffee**

**A/N: More pointless rambling that came out while I was bored. Please, if you read, review. It's common courtesy, people! (well, not really but I'd sure like you to think that) Tell me what you think…should i continue it? This was meant to be a oneshot, but I have a few ideas, so if I get enough reviews I might keep going. Enjoy! **

**Disclaimer::email:: Dear miss GirlWithAPearl6, we are very sorry to inform you that Amy Sherman-Palladino and her husband Dan have denied you the right to own Gilmore Girls. Have a nice life. ::sob::**

One rock – that's all it took. A stupid rock changed the course of events in my life forever. And it wasn't even really a rock; it was more of a pebble. Which makes me sound even more pathetic.

It started like this: I was innocently taking a walk around town, breathing in the fresh cold air and the scent that was unmistakably the scent of Stars Hollow. I came to the gazebo and was about to climb the steps (I had a brand new paper back in my pocket that was just screaming, "Read me! Read me!"), when I caught a whiff of what I believed to be the very elixir of life.

If you know me at all, you would know what I am talking about. However, I am going to assume for storytelling purposes that you don't know me very well and I'll tell you what I mean:

Coffee. What else? Duh.

So anyway, I smelled coffee and assumed that Luke had just made a fresh pot. And who was I to turn down a fresh pot of Luke's coffee? So I followed my nose away from the gazebo and in the direction of Luke's.

As I got closer to the diner I realized (with much disappointment) that it was decaf.

(Hi, the nose, remember?)

But I decided to drop by anyway in hopes that I could possibly persuade him into making a fresh pot of highly caffeinated coffee with my adorable baby blues. It works every time. Luke is such a softy.

I was a little less than thirty feet from the diner so I skipped the rest of the way and bounded up the steps with one giant leap. I twisted the doorknob. The world stopped. People stared. And that's when it happened.

That stupid pebble. It was perched on the inside of the doorway and my foot hit it just right and…well, the rest is history.

I pitched forward with my arms flailing wildly in a windmill like way and I'm pretty sure the little squeal I heard came out of me. The whole thing seemed to happen in slow motion, complete with someone yelling "nooooooooo" in a really low, movie-effect like voice. Oh wait, it was just Kirk.

So anyway I toppled forward and landed right on top of………..

Jess.

He went down, too, but as we were falling we did this weird little flip so that when we landed he was on top of me with our stomachs (and everything else) pressed tightly together.

Oops.

Neither of us spoke (or breathed).

We just stared at each other confusedly, as we were both wondering how in the name of god we had ended up in this position.

So we just lay there, staring into each other's eyes, and that's when I noticed. Jess had amazing eyes. I mean, they were brown, but not just plain old boring brown. No, his eyes were the color of coffee. A little voice in the back of my head started chanting "elixir of life, elixir of life…"

As I focused more on the rest of his face I realized that Jess was actually kind of cute. Wait – scratch that, he was actually _really _cute. Like so cute that he could actually be considered hot. Super hot.

I also realized that he was looking at my face with the same amount of intensity that I guessed I was looking at him with.

And then I realized that neither of us had moved and we were just lying there all…touching….and that practically the whole town was watching us, including my boyfriend, who I had totally forgotten about up until this point.

Patty and Babette had very strange looks on their faces…almost as if they knew something that we didn't.

Luke was standing there holding a coffee pot and looking as confused and bewildered as he always did.

Kirk was humming the Star Wars theme.

And Dean (my _boyfriend_ Dean) was just looking at us with his eyes slightly narrowed.

Jess stood up slowly, and I automatically missed the warmth of him on top of me (_whoa_, there, what the hell are you doing??), so I stood up too.

"Sorry," he whispered without quite meeting my eyes. He brushed past me but as he went, I could swear I saw the hint of a smirk on his (adorable) face.

Dean stood up and came over to me , the angry look replaced with a worried one.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

I simply nodded. I couldn't think of anything to say. I just let Dean lead me out of the diner with his hand on the small of my back.

The only thing I could think the rest of the way home was "that was interesting."

And it was.

As I stood on the porch of my mother's house while Dean kissed me goodbye, the only thing I saw behind my closed eyes was Jess' face.


	2. The Demise of A Friend

**The Demise of A Friend**

**A/N: Hey, everyone. I got some reviews saying that I should continue The Color of Coffee, so I decided I would. Here's chapter two, hope you enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: You know the seagull at the beginning of Finding Nemo that says, "Not Mine!"? Well, at the moment I am that seagull. **

After I closed the door behind Dean the first thing I did was go into my bedroom. I went over to my bookcase and pulled out my dog-eared copy of _Oliver Twist_ before sitting down heavily on my bed and opening to a random page. It didn't really matter where I started reading; I had read the book so many times that I automatically knew what was happening in the story.

I sighed and tucked a stray piece of (annoying) hair behind my ear. I flipped a page. And then I nearly fell off my bed. There was writing in my book. And It was not part of the story.

Multiple thoughts passed through my head at once. Had my book been vandalized? Had I vandalized my own book without realizing it? Was Luke right about me needing a straightjacket for my birthday? And more importantly, why was Babette chasing Kirk down the road with a water gun?

I sifted through all of these thoughts until I got to the last one, and then I did a double take out the window. Sure enough…

What in the name of God?

I placed the book on my bed, determined to find out what the mystery writing was later.

Exiting the house, I stood on the porch and cupped my hands around my mouth.

"Babette! What's going on?"

She didn't seem to hear me, so I decided to get a bit closer. I marched off of the porch and ran across the lawn nearly tripping on a small twig (tripping – that seems like a familiar theme in my life).

"Babette!" I called again. She didn't stop running. I didn't know she could run so fast. With a sigh I realized that I was going to have to head straight into the action. I sprinted after her and tapped her on the shoulder when I got close enough. Not a good idea.

"Ah ha!" she yelled triumphantly. "I've got you now, Kirk!" She then proceeded to spray water in my face.

I just stood there dripping wet while she stared at me confusedly.

"Oh sorry Rory, didn't see you there," she said. "I'd love to stay and chat, but I have to go take care of something." She cast a murderous look at Kirk, who was peering nervously from behind a tree.

"Wait," I said. I was beginning to fear for Kirk's life. Babette was just a sweet old lady most of the time, but boy, when she got angry it wasn't a good idea to get in her way. It looked like Kirk had done just that, and was about to face the dreaded wrath of Babette.

"What is going on? Why are you mad at Kirk?" I was completely nonplussed.

"Because she's a madwoman! And anyway, I already apologized. There was no way I could have known that Peirpont had a weak spot on his belly! I just want to be left alone!" shouted Kirk from behind his tree. Babette again glowered in his direction.

"Why, you little…"

"Okay, okay!" I hurriedly interjected before the situation got too out of control. "Would someone please calm down and tell me what is going on? I think we can find a less…er…violent way to solve this!"

"He started it!" Babette exclaimed, thrusting her finger in Kirk's direction and sounding very much like a child. "He was looking at my Peirpont!" I paused for a moment here to say a silent "dirty!" in my head. Hey, it was tradition. And who am I to break tradition?

Kirk's voice silenced my somewhat inappropriate thoughts.

"I was only checking him for mold! It is my job, remember? I read in a chat room that gnomes are frequent contractors of several types of mold that will wear away paint! I only had Peirpont's safety in mind when I picked him up!" Kirk had stopped looking angry and was now starting to look guilty.

I nodded as I stored all of this information away for later.

When I turned my attention back to Babette, she looked like she was going to cry. I wanted to avoid an awkward situation, so I quickly asked, "And then what did he do? What did Kirk do to Peirpont?"

Babette gasped and put her hand up, so I gave her a minute to compose herself before speaking. When she had stopped looking like she was on the brink of a seizure, or a psychological meltdown, she continued her story.

"He…..he….oh Rory darling, I cant even say it! He picked Peirpont up, turned him over and then he….he dropped him! And Peirpont kind of did this slow motion flippy thing through the air (here she paused to gesture with her hands), and then he fell, right on his belly. You know how he had that thin spot on his belly? I had been meaning to get that fixed for a while. Anyway, he fell and he broke right in two! Pierpont is g…g…gone!"

She stopped, chest heaving as sobs overtook her.

"Oh, Babette! I'm so sorry! I know how much you cared about Pierpont. Here, let me get you inside," I motioned toward her house and led her up the front steps. I gave Kirk a dirty look over my shoulder.

"I'm not finished with you, mister," I said in the best Darth Vader voice I could manage. Which, obviously wasn't very good, because Kirk held up his hand and spread his fingers, keeping the first and last two fingers touching as he backed away.

"May the force be with you," he said. And then he started to run.

"Good," Babette snorted through her tears. "He better run. I'll be dealing with _him _later."

I smiled to myself, at the same time feeling slightly apprehensive. I guessed that Kirk had a rough couple of days ahead of him and I almost felt bad. Almost. Breaking Babette's beloved gnome was as bad as a crime in this town.

After I made Babette some tea, I went back over to my house to call Lane. I hadn't talked to her in a while, what with the amount of homework I received from Chilton. Today had been a stressful day, and talking to Lane usually came in the form of a stress reliever.

I sat in the living room on the couch and dialed the familiar number. Mrs. Kim picked up.

"Kim's Antiques. Fifty percent off of everything in the store from now until the end of the week. How may I help you?"

"Mrs. Kim?" I started in what I thought was a confident voice that suggested I loved God with all of my heart. "May I please speak to Lane?"

There was a brief pause while Mrs. Kim considered this.

"Lane will have to call you back. She is making lactose-free wheat-free cookies. After they are done, we will have to eat them. Only good for another thirty-eight minutes. Then she has Bible study for an hour. She'll call you in precisely three hours and twenty-seven minutes."

"Thank you, Mrs. Kim," I said. "I'll make sure to set my watch for three hours and twenty-seven minutes."

"Good. May God be with you…and your mother."

I hung up when I heard the dial tone. It was always a good idea to wait until you were sure that Mrs. Kim had hung up. She took great offense if she thought you had hung up on her.

Sighing, I trudged back into my bedroom. I had really wanted to talk to Lane. The day had been bad enough already, now I had to wait three hours and twenty-seven minutes with nothing to do to talk to my best friend. It was times like these that I realized living in a small town is not all it's cracked up to be.

I cast my eyes around my room, desperate for something to do. I knew for a fact that there was nothing on TV (after all, who watches TV at one o'clock on a Sunday afternoon?), and I was just about to go ask my mom if she needed any help at the inn when my eyes landed on the book on my bed.

I picked it up, remembering the unsolved mystery from this morning. Opening the pages, I flipped approximate spot I remembered seeing the writing on. After thumbing through it a bit more, I managed to find the page.

They were notes. Notes in the margins; thoughts about the plot and completely random things that one might think about while reading _Oliver Twist. _

I squinted my eyes at the page as I realized that I knew that handwriting. In fact, I was very up close and personal with that handwriting nearly everyday. It was the same writing that was on the specials board at Luke's.

And then I realized that Jess was the one that wrote the specials up on the board every day. Which led me to remember another important piece of information – Jess had 'borrowed' my copy of _Oliver Twist_ the night my mom invited him and Luke over for dinner. Jess had _written _in my book. _My _book.

I felt a flush rising in my cheeks, a sure sign that I was getting pissed off. I mean, the punk had _vandalized _my book. However, it came to my attention that I was also slightly pissed at myself, or rather the butterflies that inhabited my belly as I thought of how Jess' coffee brown eyes had looked at this page, how his olive skin had brushed against it as he wrote.

I shook myself out of my reverie and remembered Dean, my _boyfriend_. Why was I getting so hot and bothered over another guy, when I had a perfectly good one already?

Jeez, now I really needed to talk to Lane. I looked at my watch in hopes that my discovery had taken up three hours and twenty-seven minutes. I sighed in frustration when I realized that I still had two hours and fifty-four minutes until Lane would call.

It was then that I resigned myself to an afternoon on the couch, watching boring talk shows on TV.

**A/N: Well there's chapter two. I hope you liked it. You know how cars run on fuel and people run on food? Well, I run on reviews, so if you would like to see an update within the next week, leave me one. Also, I am looking for a beta for this story but I am not quite sure how the beta system works. If you are a beta and would like to help me out, please PM me! **


	3. Timing

**Timing **

**A/N: Here's chapter three of The Color of Coffee, hope you enjoy. Even if you don't enjoy, please leave a review. It really helps me keep writing when I know that people like what I write. Seriously, it's a proven fact.**

**Disclaimer: ****Yes, that's right, I own Gilmore Girls. Now, if you'll excuse me, The Genie tells me I have two wishes remaining...**

I must have fallen asleep on the couch, because when I woke up it was four am. As you probably already know, I am not a morning person, but since I had gotten at least fifteen hours of sleep already I knew that it was pretty much pointless to assume I would get any more.

I got up off the couch and headed into the kitchen, listening for a sign that my mother was home. The house was silent, so I figured my mother had stayed the night at the inn. I freshened the coffee in the pot and downed the lot of it. I figured I might as well get some studying done, because I had over four hours before I needed to catch my bus. Timing really sucked lately.

Oh crap! Timing! Lane!

I ran to the telephone table and skidded, thanks to my slippers. I pressed the message button and waited. I weeded through the ones from Grandma complaining about something or other and wrote down a few that I thought my mom might need. The machine beeped and the messages stopped. Huh. Lane hadn't called.

That was strange. Lane always called when she (or her mother) said she would. Mostly because it was the polite thing to do, but also because when you were alone in a house with Mrs. Kim for the amount of time each day that Lane was, you needed to keep constant contact to the outside world to keep from going crazy.

The worse possible scenarios flashed through my head. Their house had burned down and Lane hadn't made it; those lactose-free wheat-free cookies had given them a horrible virus from which they immediately perished; Mrs. Kim had actually sent Lane to live in a convent, something she had been threatening to do since Lane and I were eight.

I was starting to hyperventilate and could feel tears pricking the backs of my eyes as I imagined poor helpless Lane, alone on a bus to Bible Camp for the rest of her life.

Realizing that I was about to have a meltdown for no apparent reason – Lane had probably just forgotten – I went into my bedroom and lay down on my bed. Without setting my alarm clock, which was really stupid. See, I thought that since I wasn't tired at all I wouldn't go back to sleep. Boy, was I wrong.

When I woke up six hours later it was to a silent house. I looked at the clock on my bedside table (a hand-me-down from Lorelai: It was pink and furry and made a strange bubbling noise when the alarm went off) and realized with a sick feeling that it was ten o'clock and I had not only missed my bus but my first two classes.

I jumped out of bed and looked down at myself, remembering that I was wearing the same outfit I had been wearing yesterday, as I had fallen asleep with my clothes on twice.

After quickly changing into a t-shirt and fresh jeans, padded barefoot into the kitchen. My mother was asleep in her chair, with her head on the table. Her right hand, of course, held an ever-present coffee mug. I groaned and walked up behind her. I placed my hand on her shoulder and shook her gently.

"Mom! Wake up! We're so late! You have to get up!"

"Uhhhhrrrrgggg……"

"Mom!" She obviously wasn't waking, so I gritted my teeth and reached for her coffee mug, which was sort of like provoking a hibernating bear.

"Don't touch my coffee, you fiend!" my mother shouted, lifting her head off of the table and looking at me like she was a shark and I was a minnow. I shrank back slightly,

"Sorry, mom," I started nervously. Her coffee had been threatened and there was no telling what she would do. "But you need to get up. I'm late for school and you're late for work!"

She snapped out of shark mode and went back into Lorelai mode.

"Really? Oh well."

"Oh well?" I said incredulously. "Didn't you hear me? We're late! L-A-T-E! La – "

But she cut me off.

"Rory, honey, love of my life, fruit of my loins (I wrinkled my nose), do you have any tests today?"

"Well no, but – "

"Then fear not, offspring! I have the day off of work! We can play hooky! Well, you can play hooky, because I have no where to play hooky from today. But I will be with you during the hooky playing, so technically I would be – "

Here she petered off, her head slowly drooping back to the table.

"Mom, stay with me" I said, groaning when she began snoring lightly. I tapped her. Nothing.

Sighing, I grabbed her head and forced it up, at the same time putting the coffee mug to her lips and tilting it slightly. It was like magic, the second the first drop of coffee touched her tongue she lifted her hand and grabbed the cup, draining it. Her eyes opened.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't get home till really late last night. There was so much to do at the inn. Now do mommy a favor and make some more coffee. I need some to last me at least until we get to Luke's for the real stuff."

I hurriedly made more coffee, before she had the chance to drift off again.

"Thanks, hon," she said after she had drank about half of the pot. "Lets get to Luke's. And then we can figure out what to do for the rest of the day."

The walk to Luke's was pretty much silent. My mother has built up quite a tolerance to coffee, so she needed it in an IV to stay awake. The pot and a half she had chugged this morning barely even began to cover her exhaustion.

A beep from my pager broke the silence. I stopped and pulled it out of my pocket. It was from Lane. It read:

"Grounded. Burnt cookies. Broke vase. Call tomorrow."

Poor Lane. At least she hadn't been sent to Korea on a one-way ticket, one of the other horrible scenarios I had imagined this morning.

When we got to Luke's, I noticed that the place was packed.

"What do you think?" My mother asked. "Should we counter it?"

"Oohh, yes!" I replied excitedly. "Then we can finally play bagel hockey!"

"Ah, bagel hockey," my mother began with a far away look on her face. "A sport that has been fantasized about many times, yet never played."

We took our seats at the counter and waited for Luke to appear. And waited. And waited.

"Oh Lukey!" my mother hollered, getting impatient. When there was no answer she grabbed a donut from the container and headed in the direction of the stairs.

"I'll be right back," she said to me. "I'm just gonna go make sure the toilet plunger hasn't tried to eat him again. He'll thank me one day. I swear, the level of service in this place! And there isn't even fresh coffee! I think I should file a complaint."

She wasn't paying attention and nearly bumped into Jess, who was on his way downstairs. He looked at her strangely, so she widened her blue eyes at him and pointed to me, and then the empty coffee pot.

"Make some coffee, and then caffeinate my daughter."

He turned to look at me, so I widened my eyes the same way as my mother.

"Ah, jeez," said Jess. "Put those away. They're dangerous."

My mother grinned and went upstairs. I merely pouted some more, experimenting with my level of control over every male in the diner.

When I was satisfied that I was adorable, I turned back to Jess, who was pouring coffee into the mug in front of me.

"Thanks," I said.

"Whatever."

I was thrown off guard by Jess' response. He was usually nice to me, or at least tolerated my presence. Now he was acting like I was just some random townsperson that annoyed him.

I pondered over this, wondering what I had done, when the bell on the door jingled and a blur of blond and boobs brushed passed me and went straight for Jess, who was now leaning against the counter reading.

"Hey," said the girl, who I recognized as Shane from Stars Hollow High.

"Hey," said Jess, before he pulled her into a lip lock worthy of a porno.

I just stared in shock, trying to ignore the fact that my stomach was convulsing with revulsion and – jealousy? A new thought dawned on me; Maybe I hadn't done anything to make Jess mad. Maybe that was the way it had always been, and I had been fooling myself into thinking I mattered to him.

But when he looked up, I quickly banished this thought. His eyes met mine. They were filled with sadness, and was that regret? It was almost like he was trying to apologize.

I needed to get out of there. I glanced at the stairs, but there was no telling how long my mom would be up there flirting with Luke. I grabbed my coat from the back of the stool chair and dashed out of the diner.

**A/N: If you ever want to see the next chapter, press the pretty little blue button. One of my hit men will call you with the details, such as where to leave the money. No seriously, I write faster when I get feedback.**


	4. Misadventures At The Mall

**Misadventures At The Mall**

**A/N: Here's chapter four, hope you enjoy! If not, feel free to tell me anyway. Really, any form of reviewing that proves that you have read and thought at all about this story would be nice. I haven't gotten many reviews on this story (and I'm not going to beg for reviews because I hate it when people do that), and I am beginning to question whether or not it is worth it to finish.**

** ALSO...Thanks to Dusk Reaper for the beta!!!  
**

**Disclaimer: You know, there's a funny story relating to this. You see, my great aunt's cousin by marriage twice removed had a friend whose daughter... heh, no just kidding. Don't own.**

I was half way to the gazebo when I heard someone call my name. I recognized my mother's voice and turned around, stopping when I noticed she was out of breath from running. My mother, the athlete.

When she caught up with me she grabbed my arm roughly and pulled me into the gazebo. She propped me up against one of the benches and plopped down beside me.

"Talk, now," she said. "What was that back there? Who are you, Frank Abagnale Jr.? If so I better go back and make sure the check didn't bounce."

Sometimes I really hated it when my mother was sarcastic, but the look on her face was rather worried, so I decided I had better pacify her with an answer. I really didn't want to talk about the feelings I may or may not have for the town bad boy, so I made up a story.

"It was nothing," I said. "I just felt really queasy all of a sudden. I thought I was gonna throw up. I'm fine now, though."

This didn't help to calm my mother. Lorelai could go from zero to panic attack in less than three seconds.

"Are you alright, honey? Are you coming down with something?"

"No!" I said. "Really, I'm fine!"

Lorelai calmed at this, but the lines of worry were still etched into her face.

"Well, I know the perfect cure for an upset stomach," she said. "A fabulous, all expenses paid trip to…the mall!"

I instantly felt better. After all, what could be more fun than an afternoon looking at horribly overpriced merchandise with your best friend?

"Ooh, okay!" I said excitedly. "What's the occasion?"

"What?" said Lorelai, looking slightly put out. "Can't a mother do something nice for her daughter once in a while?"

"It's been known to happen," I said, still eyeing my mother suspiciously. I knew my mother well enough to know that she probably had an ulterior motive.

"Alright, alright," she said, bubbling over with excitement and switching back into best friend mode. I knew she would cave. The Gilmores themselves aren't even immune to the Gilmore Girl pout.

"If you must know, I have a date tonight, and I need a new outfit." I perked up. My mother hardly ever went on dates, and if anyone deserved to be happy and have fun, it was Lorelai.

"So," she continued, "I just figured it would be fun, you know, give us something to do, but if you don't want to or if you're not feeling up to it we don't have to…"

She paused, mistaking my happy look for an apprehensive one.

"No, no!" I said. "It'll be fun!"

I only hoped that this date went better than her last one. She had gone out with a guy named Brent who lived in Hartford, and had come home in tears. Apparently, he had been hung up on someone else, and kept comparing her with my mother. On top of all that, he had gotten her drunk and then attempted to make a pass at her as she was getting out of the car. The slime ball.

We headed home to change, and then got in the car. The drive to the mall was a happy one for my mother, and an embarrassing one for me. Lorelai had found the Rod Stewart tape that I had been hiding under the seat, and was proceeding to play it at a very loud volume and mock me relentlessly. What can I say? Guilty pleasure. Jeez.

The mall wasn't very busy. It was empty enough that we were able to ride the down escalators up and not get yelled at.

As we passed the sports department, we nearly ran into a very battered (and surprised) Kirk. He was carrying a package that looked suspiciously like it contained a baseball bat and had a white piece of gauze strapped over his left eye with surgical tape.

I gasped.

"Oh, my god, Kirk, what happened?" I asked, putting my hand over my mouth and glancing at my mother, who was desperately trying to look serious and failing miserably.

Kirk took his purchase from the plastic bag (it _was_ a baseball bat) and waved it menacingly at us.

"I don't want to talk about it," he exclaimed tearfully. "I need to get home. My mother is going to help me change the bandages."

We respectfully backed off a few feet (what were we supposed to do, it was common sense to back away from a crazy person holding a potential weapon) and let Kirk pass.

I turned back to my mother, who was now having a full-blown laugh attack.

"It's not funny!" I said. "Why are you laughing? What happened to Kirk?"

My mother paused to wipe her streaming eyes and take a deep breath before she managed to speak.

"Ba…Babette…" she choked out, before collapsing onto the nearest bench and giggling uncontrollably again.

"What did Babette do, mom?" I asked in the strictest voice I could manage. I had to admit I was a little nervous to hear what Babette's retaliation for the death of Pierpont was.

"This morning in the diner…. after you had left…She…she shook his soda before he opened it! And it sprayed right in his eye!"

"Oh, my God!" I said for the second time in five minutes. "Stop laughing! That's awful! Is Kirk gonna be okay?"

"Um…I don't know," said Lorelai. "I think so." The look on her face suddenly turned from amused to horrified. "Oh, my God, I'm a horrible person! What if he goes blind? And I was laughing! Why did you let me keep laughing, Rory?"

I just sighed and shook my head at my mother's ridiculous antics. I grabbed her elbow and pulled her back to the escalator.

"Come on," I said. "We need to get you some coffee."

As we were walking toward to food court, we passed a ritzy jewelry store. My mother paused outside with her head cocked to one side and her hand up, motioning for me to stop.

"What is it?" I asked, confused.

"Shh," said Lorelai.

"But–"

"Shhh! Do you hear that?"

"Hear what?" I asked, perplexed.

"That voice!"

Okay, I admit that now I was seriously worried about my mother. I mean, I always knew she was crazy, but if she was hearing voices…well that was bad. I considered stopping a random person and asking them for help, or calling 911. Maybe I should call Kirk back. He knew a lot of good therapists.

"Mom, I really think we need to get some coffee into your system, or something, because you're really starting to scare me."

"Don't be ridiculous, I'm fine."

She was still standing there as though listening for something. I sighed, exasperated.

"Mom, I'm serious. Either you tell me what the heck you're talking about, or I'm checking you into the loony bin."

Lorelai turned to me and widened her eyes into a heartbreakingly adorable expression.

"Why must you be so mean to Mommy? I'm telling you, I'm not crazy! I just happened to hear the voice of Richard Gilmore coming out of that jewelry store."

"Who?"

"You know, tall, with a mustache, may or may not work for the secret service–"

"Oh cut it out," I said. "Why would Grandpa be at the mall? And more importantly, why would he be at the mall in a jewelry store?"

My mother looked at me. "Oh, I'm sure he has his reasons," she said mysteriously.

"Well," I started. "We could stand here and guess about what Grandpa may or may not be doing inside a jewelry store, or we could go in and actually find out."

Lorelai grinned. "Oohh, good idea! At least now I know that rich snobby school of yours is paying off!"

I rolled my eyes and started inside the store.

I walked around the counter and almost bumped into a man that was most certainly my grandfather.

"Lorelai, Rory! This is a pleasant surprise! What brings you here?"

"Well, Dad, we could ask you the same question."

"Oh, I was just doing a little shopping," he said evasively.

"We can see that," said my mother. "Any reason for this sudden need to shop?"

Grandpa cleared his throat, embarrassed.

"Well you see," he started nervously. "It is mine and Emily's fortieth anniversary this Thursday. And I have no idea what to get her for a gift."

He paused, and then his face brightened. "Oh!" he said. "You girls like to shop, yes?"

"Yes," I said slowly, not sure where he was going with this.

"You could pick something out for Emily!" he exclaimed, clearly excited at this new prospect.

"Um, well, you see Dad-" Lorelai started, before she was cut off by Grandpa.

"It's perfect! Then I can go to the club like I had originally planned!" Now Grandpa seemed to be talking to himself more than us.

"Here, here," he said, hurriedly pulling out his wallet. He shoved a few hundreds into my mother's hands while we both watched wordlessly. "That should cover it."

"Grandpa–"

"Dad–"

He bent down and kissed us each on the cheek. Then he straightened up and said in a light voice, "Get her something nice, but not too fancy. Thank you so much for this!"

He then proceeded to practically run out of the store, only stopping once to call behind him, "Oh! I almost forgot! I'll see both of you ladies on Friday for the anniversary dinner! Have a lovely afternoon!"

I stared incredulously at the door my grandfather had just exited.

My mother grabbed my arm and pulled me out of the jewelry store, a fake smile pasted on her face.

"So," she said. "How about that coffee?"

Lorelai spent the rest of the evening debating whether or not to get Grandma a joke gift or a serious one, and I spent it trying to ignore the fact that every time I saw a dark haired boy in a black jacket it felt as though an invisible hand was squeezing my heart.

**A/N: Okay, okay, I know there isn't any LIT interaction in this chapter, but I promise you if you're patient, you will be rewarded! Now, reward me for being so good and updating so quickly by leaving me a review!**


	5. A Pancake For Your Thoughts

**A Pancake For Your Thoughts**

**A/N: I know, I know! This chapter is coming about a week later than I expected it to, but it gave me a little trouble. I said last chapter that there would be a Rory/Jess interaction this time, but I wasn't quite sure what it would be. This resulted in me scrapping a lot of ideas and starting over. I'm still not really sure if I like how this chapter turned out, but please let me know how you liked it.**

** Also...thanks so much to Dusk Reaper !!  
**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Gilmore Girls, because slavery was abolished in 1865. **

The next day dawned bright and sunny. I opened my eyes to the feel of the sun across my face and the smell of delicious pancakes cooking.

Wait, what?

Lorelai does not cook. And when I say she doesn't cook, I mean she _really_ doesn't cook. She is physically, mentally, and emotionally unable to cook. I mean, she can't even make toast. So naturally, the smell of fresh food made me a little suspicious.

I yawned before throwing the covers back and hopping out of bed. I looked in the mirror and sighed. Hopeless. I was wearing cute little summer pajamas with sheep on them, but my hair was a puffy tangle and I still had bags under my eyes from staying up so late last night. My mother had _insisted_ on renting practically every movie from the movie store to watch while she was on her date and how was I supposed to resist?

So anyway, I opened the door to my room and looked around the kitchen cautiously. It was empty, but sure enough, there was a griddle on the stove full of warm-looking, golden brown pancakes. I was practically salivating, which I'm sure made me look even more attractive.

I made my way to the bathroom because without a shower, someone could mistake me for a wild animal and throw me in a zoo. And hey, someone needs to take care of Lorelai and make sure she doesn't take too many happy pills in the morning.

The door to the bathroom was closed, which was unusual unless someone was in there, and I was sure that if my mother had been up she would have awoken me.

I opened the door slowly just as someone was opening it from the other side.

Jumping back in shock, I looked right into the face of…Jess.

"Uhhhgg," I said intelligently.

He raised his eyebrows.

"Nice," he commented. "The sheep really compliment your skin tone."

"What are you doing here?" I asked. If it weren't for the ever-present smirk on Jess' face, I would almost assume he was embarrassed, or shy.

"Nature called."

"I didn't mean what are you doing here, as in here, here, I just meant what are you doing here? You know, at my house. Not, what are you doing…"

"You're babbling," Jess pointed out, still smirking.

"Yes, I tend to do that when I get nervous…"

One of his eyebrows shot up again. "I make you nervous?"

_Damn it! Damn him and his adorable face! _

I backtracked quickly. "No! Not nervous, exactly, just a little bit surprised and it's early in the morning, and – what did you say you were doing here?" I could feel the blush rising in my cheeks.

"I didn't."

"Oh. Well?"

"Luke was supposed to come over this morning and fix your garbage disposal. He wasn't feeling well so he sent me over instead," answered Jess.

"We have a garbage disposal?" I asked, confused. He didn't answer, but his smirk became more pronounced. I realized how stupid I must seem to him, dressed in my pajamas with messy hair, asking stupid questions about the house that I had lived in since I was seven. "Okay," I said. "I really need some coffee." I padded towards the kitchen and Jess followed.

"Already done," he said. "As well as a fresh batch of pancakes. Your mother practically ambushed me with a box of pancake mix. She did tell me I could have some though. That is, if you don't mind."

"Umm, no," I said distractedly. "Have as many as you like. You did make them."

Speaking of my mother, she appeared to be MIA. And I really needed her right now. What was I supposed to do, eat breakfast alone with Jess?

"Do you know where my mother is right now?" I asked, hoping my voice didn't betray my nervousness. She had left me alone with Jess, and worst of all, there was no escape. She and I were gonna have to have a little talk later. Plus, I was really excited to hear all about her date.

"I think she went back to bed. She said something about restraining you from waking her up. She even told me where the chain was, if need be."

Well, don't I just love my mother.

"Okay," I said. "Listen, I'm gonna go take a shower and get dressed. You can start eating, I guess, if you want to."

He nodded. "Okay."

When I got into the bathroom I closed the door sharply and slid down against it until I was sitting on the floor. I put my hands over my face and scrunched my eyes tight, before standing again and turning on the water when I got my wits back.

After my shower I stepped onto the wet tile and looked around, perplexed. What was I forgetting?

Oh yeah. My clothes.

Well, this was great. When it was just my mom and I, I didn't have to worry about it. However, when we had guests I usually dressed in the bathroom after my shower. This prevented the awkwardness of me having to walk across the house to my bedroom in only a towel. Which, unfortunately, was what I was going to have to do now.

The pounding in my head that the water had cured started back up. I wrapped myself in my towel quite tightly, and then spun around to make sure _nothing_ was showing. Cautiously, I opened the door and started down the hall.

I had allowed myself the hope that Jess wasn't in the kitchen. Maybe he had gone to get something from his car, or maybe he had already left. Not the case. There he was, sitting at the table with a forkful of pancake halfway to his mouth, gaping at me in shock. In my embarrassment, my grip slackened and caused the towel to drop a few inches, exposing a little more than I had planned to expose.

For the first time since I met him, and possibly for the first time in his life, he blushed. And, of course I did too. We locked eyes, his trying very hard not to look anywhere else and mine daring him to.

"I'll just–" I motioned towards my room.

He nodded slowly and turned his eyes back to his pancakes.

I slammed my door shut and dropped the towel, still flustered. Changing quickly into a tee-shirt and faded jeans, I hurried back out into the kitchen and tried to pretend that nothing had happened. Which wasn't hard, because he was seemingly attempting the same thing.

I helped myself to some pancakes and sat across from him.

"So," I began, in what I hoped was a casual tone. "What have you read lately?"

He shrugged and chewed his food.

"Same old," he replied in a slightly higher voice than usual. "Mostly I've just been re-reading. Ginsberg, H.G Wells, Jack London, you know. Even a little Jane Austen from time to time. You?"

I thought for a moment. "Alice Hoffman," I said. "She's better than some give her credit for."

This sparked a whole conversation, one which I thoroughly enjoyed. Jess really knew a lot about literature and music too. We sat there and talked for an hour without even realizing it until we were interrupted by my pager, which brought us out of our discussion about whether or not Cat Power was better at alternative or jazz.

My pager read:

"I'm free! Meet me outside Mama Kim's in twenty minutes! Lane."

I glanced at the clock and then back at Jess, who got my unspoken message.

"I should go," he said, a little reluctantly. He stood and made his way to the front door. I stopped him, not wanting him to leave quite yet.

"Um…Jess?" I asked hesitantly.

He turned. "Yeah?"

"Do you think…do you think that maybe we could be…friends?" He paused, surprised by my request. Slowly he nodded.

"Yeah," he said. "I think we could try that."

And with that, he walked out the door, leaving me alone with not only a kitchen full of dirty dishes but also a feeling in my gut that friends might just be the beginning.

**A/N: Review, review! Oh, and to all of those Kirk-lovers out there, there will definitely be Kirk in the next chapter.**


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